Ancient Merome
by Quiet Defiance
Summary: In Episode Seven of Dragon Volcano Island Modded Survival, Ryan asked Mitch and Jerome what their ancient Roman names would be. This inspired me to write an AU fic where the Baccas rule over all others in Rome, and a young nameless boy is sent to serve them. Leave it to him to fall in love with the only one he can never have. Rated T for dem Merome/Mashley feels.
1. Chapter 1: A Day of Lasts

CHAPTER ONE: A Day of Lasts

Today was it. It feels like my mother is taking longer than usual to fix my toga. I can't blame her, though. This could be the last time she'll ever see me alive.

Today, I'm being sent to the palace as part of a yearly delivery from the city. Five boys and five girls, all recently turned eighteen, are given to the royal family as servants. Most of them are dismissed in ten years, when their required service is up. Others are less lucky, and are forced to serve for the remainder of their life. You can try to do poorly so that they'll release you as soon as possible, but then they'll probably just kill you and sacrifice your body to Notch.

"I will always love you, my son. Never forget that," my mother says in an uncharacteristic display of affection. I can see tears welling up in her eyes as she hugs me for the last time. I take one last look around my home, not trusting myself to speak. She walks me over to the door and I step out into the bright sunlight of the street.

"I love you, mother," I reply. This is the first time I have ever said the words out loud, and I fear it will be the last. I weave my way through the streets of Rome towards the palace, trying to avoid any thoughts of what might await me within the massive marble walls. Soon enough, I arrive in the square in front of the gates and take my place in the line of teenagers isolated in the center. I am the last of the boys to arrive, but there is one girl still to show up.

After a few minutes, I hear the bells in the temple striking ten o'clock. _No, we still have five more minutes, _I think. _If only time worked according to my desires._ A very hairy creature strolls out of the gates, his blue toga flapping in the breeze. He is a Bacca, one of the ruling class in our society. The Baccas rule over all creatures in Rome, including the robots, lava mobs, and humans. The man clears his throat and begins reading names, girls first. Each girl responds tersely. Some voices show resentment, other nervousness. When the last name is called, no one replies.

"ASTRAEA!" the man says again. An auburn-haired girl runs into the square.

"I'm here! I'm here," she says, panting slightly. "Sorry about that, my siblings were NOT okay with me taking off and – "

The man takes no notice, continuing onto the boys.

"Marcus!"

A boy calls back, his jaw making the telltale clicking noises of the robots. The other boys are called off, and I am left standing.

"He-who-has-no-name!" the Bacca man calls. Redfaced, I reply.

"Present."

"Follow me." He turns on his heel and sweeps back into the palace, his toga flying out in a wide, grand arc. We follow mutely behind, our line dissolving. I find myself walking next to the late girl, Astraea. Her attitude when called was brave, but… unsettling.

"So, your name is He-who-has-no-name? Or do you actually not have a name?" she asks. My face burns again. She is quite pretty, and her direct approach in this nerve-wracking situation has rendered me almost speechless.

"I don't have a name," I reply, trying to make eye contact but breaking it after just a few seconds. She seems to digest this for a moment.

"So I can call you anything?" she asks.

"I guess."

"Like… dood?"

"Sure," I say. I like the word. It feels less like a name and more like a title. We lapse into silence for a few minutes as the man in the blue toga leads us through the twisting marble corridors.

"What does your name mean?" I ask.

"It means 'starry one.' Kind of lame and overly romantic, but my mom wasn't the most stable lady when she was pregnant. Add that to the whole 'first child at seventeen and my boyfriend left' thing and I was destined to have a silly name."

"I think Astraea is a pretty name. It suits you."

"Well thanks, dood, but I like to go by Ashley," she replies. I'm about to compliment her on her nickname when the Bacca man silences us.

"You are about to enter the throne room and be chosen for your duties in your life of servitude. Perform your tasks well, and you will be released in ten years to determine your own future. Perform them exceptionally, and you may be selected to remain permanently to live a comfortable life in service to your king. From now on, you do not speak until spoken to. You are not important, and neither is you life. If you want to live, do not rebel. Obey, and your life and those of your families will be in assured safety. Revolt, and you place your loved ones in jeopardy." With this, a couple of human guards push open the doors and we form into a line, trailing silently down the long aisle to the throne. When we reach the feet of the king, we form into the same horizontal line that we assumed in the square. Ashley is on the outside edge of the girls, and I am on the outside of the boys. When we are still, the king addresses us in his deep booming voice.

"Greetings, young peasants. I am King Caesar. Your futures hang in the balance, as I'm sure Maximus has already informed you," he says, gesturing to the Bacca in the blue toga.

"My staff will each select one of you for their purposes, at which time my son and wife will both select their own personal… assistants," he says. I can tell he really means slaves, and I hope with all my heart to be chosen for any other purpose.

One by one, the teenagers are sent off to various places around the palace. The robot boy, Marcus, is sent to the countinghouse to assist the royal accountants. A lava mob boy (I think his name was Petronius) is sent to the forges. It doesn't take long before only Ashley, one other girl, and I remain before the king's family and the palace chef. I've given up hope now, as there's no way that I'll be chosen to handle food. The most I'll get at this point is NOT abused, and even that's a slim chance.

"I select her," the chef says, pointing his chubby finger at the girl who isn't Ashley. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. There's a greater chance we will see each other now. She's the closest thing to a friend I've had for a long time.

"I want the girl," the queen says, her brown Bacca eyes glittering. Ashley keeps her mouth shut and head down as she steps forward. The queen walks toward a door in the wall closest to me, and Ashley follows behind. She shoots a smile at me over her shoulder as the door shuts behind her.

"Follow me," the young Bacca prince says gruffly, heading towards another door in the same wall. I realize as I fall into step behind him that Ashley's smile is probably the last one directed at me for a very long time.

Today is just full of lasts, isn't it?

"Your name?" the prince asks. Clearly, he isn't a man of many words.

"I – I haven't one, Your Highness," I say, hoping he won't hurt me.

"You serious?" he says, stopping abruptly and turning to face me. I almost crash into him but stop myself just in time.

"Y-yes, Your Highness," I say, keeping my eyes down.

"Please don't call me that," the prince says. "I don't like it. I don't like being superior to other people. My parents live for that stuff, though, so who am I to argue? All this pomp and circumstance. What I wouldn't give for a simple life in the city, with no cares and no attachments."

I just nod, unsure how to reply.

"I'm Doctor Phil," the prince says. It's an uncommon name to say the least. Most names have somewhat obvious meanings, like Ashley's. But Doctor Phil? I have no idea, so I just kneel.

"I am at your service," I say. He yanks me to my feet and slaps me across the face. It hurts, but I can tell that it wasn't nearly as hard as he could have hit me.

"Did you hear nothing of what I said? I don't like feeling above other sentient creatures. So don't bow and look me in the eyes when you talk. It's bad enough that I have to have a servant, like I can't fend for myself. But one who grovels like a worm? Were you born without a spine as well as without a name? LOOK AT ME!"

Startled, I obey. His dark brown eyes are almost sparking with anger.

"I may have no name, but I do have a spine. I want to be here even less than you want me here. My mother is alone now, with no one to keep her safe. But if I leave, she will die more surely than if I were to throw her outside the city wall at a full moon while bound hand and foot. If I escape, I will be found and tortured, my family attacked, and you will get away scot-free. The least you can do is at least make it easy for me to hate you."

The prince seems taken aback by my speech. To be perfectly honest, I am too. I have never in my life said anything so gutsy or rebellious.

"Are you speaking the truth?" he asks.

"I have no cause to lie."

"Then I name you. You are Milo, meaning 'soldier,' because your load to bear in life is greater than I could have imagined." The prince says. I push my luck.

"No. I am Mitch, because that name is meaningless, as am I. But by the end of my life, I will give it meaning. This is my promise to you, Prince Doctor Phil." I say, looking him in the eye. He smiles a toothy Bacca smile and lets out a hearty laugh.

"Very well. But around anyone else, you are Milo. You are mine, and it is my right to name you. And I am glad it was you who was chosen." He turns away and continues down the corridor until we reach a large entry chamber to another wing of the palace.

"I saw the girl smile at you as she left," He says, unbelting his sword and tossing it to the side. I pick it up and hang it with others on the wall next to the doorway. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Astraea," I say.

"'Starry one,'" the prince says.

"Yes," I say, surprised. I guess it makes sense, though. He's a prince, they would be more educated in the language than a city peasant like me.

"I spoke with her briefly as we walked to the throne room. She showed me kindness, and gave me the only title besides 'son' that I have been called in many years."  
"I cannot promise her safety. My mother does not have a good track record with her slaves, especially those who are young and beautiful as Astraea is."

All this time spent worrying, and my future is more secure than this girl's.

"Then I will pray to Notch that she sees no harm," I say.

"Pray you might, but beware. She may be a lost love before you have a chance to love her," the prince says, reclining on a bed with several scrolls.

Love? All I want is a friend, and this is not the place to find those. My only companion is hope.

**A/N TIME! WASSUP! : Hey guys! QD here with a BRAND NEW STORY! In episode seven of dragon-volcano-island-survival, Ryan (xRpMx13) asked Mitch and Jerome what their names would be if they were alive during ancient Roman times. Jerome immediately said Doctor Phil, but Mitch refused to answer, and I heard a fanfic in the making. So here we are! Just to break things down here is a basic summary of their society:**

**-Humans, robots, lava mobs, and more coexist semi-peacefully in Rome, ruled over by the relatively benevolent Baccas.**

**-Every year, ten teenagers (five male/five female) are sent to the palace for ten years of servitude. After ten years (if they're still alive), they are either released or kept on, depending on their degree of ability.**

**-Mat (NoochM) is Marcus the robot, Preston (TBNRfrags) is Petronius the lava mob, and Ashley (AshleyMarieeGaming) is Ashley (duh). More people might show up (hint hint). Caesar isn't real, the queen isn't real, and Maximus isn't real.**

**-All meanings of names are (hopefully) accurate.**

**So, in conclusion, welcome to Ancient [Me]rome, my beautiful individuals. I hope you enjoy your stay.**

**-Quiet Defiance**

**PS- **_**In Benja I Trust**_** will have priority over this story, so it will most likely not be updated as frequently. Also, as I am the queen of mixed ships, prepare to have your navies attacked! (Get it? Ships, navy? I'm not funny, but I'll laugh anyway.) Much luv!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Beginning

CHAPTER TWO: The Beginning

*DOCTOR PHIL'S POV*

I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't want to be born royal. I don't want to be a prince, trapped within the palace walls. It's stifling, all these complicated rules and societal standards and etiquette and stuff. Pomp and circumstance, that's all it is. It practically suffocates me, but my father lives for all of this. Racial superiority, wealth, power, all of the things I don't want.

I strap on my sword over my toga. It's not my favorite weapon (I prefer axes), but it's more "Roman," as my father would say. God only knows what kind of punishment I'd receive if I showed up in front of all his staff with a barbarian's weapon, one meant for low-class humans. Any kind of discipline won't be much different from the servant they're forcing me to accept. How old do they think I am? I'm eighteen, I can care for myself. And if the simple fact that they're saddling me with someone to trip over my heels wasn't bad enough, I'll no doubt be expected to abuse them as well, just like all the other Baccas in the palace. I can't even begin to count the number of times I've seen a paw strike a face, or a stomach, or even the groin. It hurts me almost as much as it hurts the servants.

Why can't the others see it? They think the humans, robots, and lava mobs are less than we. That they can think just enough to mimic basic Bacca functions. Honestly, I haven't been able to experiment to see if this is true. But something tells me when I see the pain in their eyes as the blow hits that they are more than copies of a perfect, furry race. I think they could be real people under all that skin, metal, and molten rock.

Today begins my experiment: can humans think?

I walk down the corridor that leads from my rooms to the throne room, engrossed in my thoughts of social justice and species equality. I arrive in the long hall just as Maximus slips out the large doors at the other end.

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't we, Doctor Phil?" my father says, not turning to me. Just hearing the sound of my own name makes me angry. He chides me for carrying a "non-Roman" weapon, yet named me the least Roman name I could imagine? King indeed.

"The tributes have not arrived, Father. I would say that I am early. Besides, a prince is never late," I answer. My father laughs his hearty laugh, while my mother frowns.

"Princes might not be late, but they are disrespectful of their elders. You would do well to restrain your tongue, son of mine," she says. Her brown eyes glitter, like she knows something I don't and intends it to cause me harm. That's ridiculous though; she's my mother and would never hurt me.

"Yes, mother," I say, and turn my attention to the heavy doors at the end of the aisle. After only a few minutes, they swing open, and a parade of teenagers enters the most powerful room in the entire palace. They are a mix of humans, robots, and lava mobs. No slimes this year, it appears. I'm not surprised. Slimes are rare. We only have one working in the palace now.

I don't really pay attention to who goes where until only three left, a robot girl, a human girl, and a human boy. The chef chooses the robot girl, and my mother chooses the human girl. It's better this way; if she'd chosen the boy, she would have seduced him and invoked the rage of my father. The boy's life would have been brief, and I would have to see another life snuffed out by the supremacist attitude of my parents. Plus, if I had gotten the girl, my father would have expected me to… use her. The last thing I want is hybrid children, who are the most despised class in our society.

I watch the girl as she goes behind my mother. Her life will hopefully be longer than if she was male, but my mother does not have a good history with young, beautiful human servants. The girl shoots a smile at my human as she makes sure the door is shut.

Interesting. Observation one: they can form emotional connections. I'll have to write that down later. I tell the boy to follow me and lead him through the door that leads to my corridor.

"Your name?" I ask. I know they respond to basic commands, but I don't want to use overly complicated words just in case.

"I – I haven't one, Your Highness," he says. Observation two: they are capable of using good grammar and have atrociously good manners. I hate being called by my title. I have a name, and even though it's horrid one might as well use it.

"Please don't call me that. I don't like it. I don't like being superior to other people. My parents live for that stuff, though, so who am I to argue? All this pomp and circumstance. What I wouldn't give for a simple life in the city, with no cares and no attachments."

I don't know why I'm telling him this. Probably because he's most likely unable to understand. Sure enough, he just nods.

"I'm Doctor Phil," I say, hoping that he'll get the message and call me that instead.

"I am at your service," he replies, kneeling before me. They are programmed to be subservient! It's disgusting. I yank him to his feet and slap him across the face. I hold back, not wanting to be my father, but I don't know how else to get through to him.

"Did you hear nothing of what I said? I don't like feeling above other sentient creatures. So don't bow and look me in the eyes when you talk. It's bad enough that I have to have a servant, like I can't fend for myself. But one who grovels like a worm? Were you born without a spine as well as without a name? LOOK AT ME!" I say. He stares at me, and something in his eyes hardens.

"I may have no name, but I do have a spine. I want to be here even less than you want me here. My mother is alone now, with no one to keep her safe. But if I leave, she will die more surely than if I were to throw her outside the city wall at a full moon while bound hand and foot. If I escape, I will be found and tortured, my family attacked, and you will get away scot-free. The least you can do is at least make it easy for me to hate you." He finishes his speech and maintains eye contact, staring me down. I'm startled. This is much more than I expected. Observation three: they are not subservient. This is a huge breakthrough! Humans have the ability to formulate opinions and emotional bonds! They might even be able to perform more complicated academic functions. This brings my experiment in a whole new direction.

But science aside, this kid's life sucks. His mother's life in danger simply because he isn't there to protect her. I may not want a servant, but if I help him escape he will die with her. The guilt would be a far worse punishment than anything my parents can dream up. One so unfortunate deserves a name.

"Then I name you. You are Milo, meaning 'soldier,' because your load to bear in life is greater than I could have imagined," I say. The name suits him.

"No. I am Mitch, because that name is meaningless, as am I. But by the end of my life, I will give it meaning. This is my promise to you, Prince Doctor Phil," he says, still staring. I feel almost cornered by the force of his gaze, but I cover it with a smile and a laugh. Besides, the name Mitch suits him even better than Milo.

"Very well. But around anyone else, you are Milo. You are mine, and it is my right to name you. And I am glad it was you who was chosen." I turn my back to him and continue down the corridor to my rooms. I ask him about the girl as soon as the door shuts behind us and we're alone. He tells me that her name is Astraea. I remember from my studies that it means 'starry one.' I think there was some woman in history somewhere named that. I warn him about her chances in my mother's service. I hope for his sake that she turns out alright. Maybe they'll have a future when they're released. More of a future than I'll have, anyway. All that's ahead of me is a dusty throne and glory in wealth.

I stretch out on my bed with a couple of scrolls to record my observations so far. After about a half an hour, I realize that the boy, Mitch, is still standing there. I grab a couple scrolls from the table next to me and toss them to him. He catches them easily, almost gracefully.

"Put these in the shelf under the subject matter. The title should tell you all you need to know. My library is through there," I say, pointing at the door to my left. He hesitates.

"Well? Are you going to go or not?" I say. Maybe I was wrong, and humans are just as stupid as my father says. He shuffles his feet and mumbles something.

"Speak louder."

"I can't read," he says, blushing and avoiding my eyes. I sigh. Another setback. Not even the brain capacity to read.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Most people in the city don't. Reading is reserved for Baccas only. They don't think us humans or anyone else is smart enough, and they think it's too dangerous to program the robots."

I get up off the bed and take the scrolls from him.

"I'll just do it myself then. No big deal." As I walk into the library, a thought strikes me like lightning from Notch himself. I could teach him to read!

"I could teach you," I offer, reentering the other room and leaning against the door frame. He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"I would be punished severely, probably worse than they do in the city. It isn't my place." He looks so sad; I just want to make him happier. I don't know what to do, though; there's not much to do here. I look around, my gaze fixing on my wall of weapons.

"Ever held a sword?" I ask, taking one off the wall.

"Not allowed."

"Is there anything you are allowed to do?" I ask jokingly.

"Reproduce. Make more people for the king to control," he says. He still doesn't meet my eyes. I digest this information slowly. Things in the city are much worse than I thought. I will have to have a talk with my father about this.

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine," I say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Nope. That's illegal," he says. He finally looks at me and smiles so that I know he's joking. His smile is incredible; it takes over his whole face, lighting up his features. I can't help but smile as well.

"Nothing's illegal for the prince. And from now on, that extends to you, biggums," I say holding out my paw for him to shake. He extends his hand hesitantly.

"Biggums?"

"Bacca term of friendship."

"Biggums. I like it," he says, smiling again as he shakes my hand. I only let go when he does. But Notch, his smile.

No, I don't think a female servant would have suited me.

**A/N TIME! MY FAVORITE TIME! : Hey guys! QD here with another installment of my first-ever Merome story. Quite honestly, I never thought I'd be writing a Merome story, yet here I am. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed so far. I hope you guys are enjoying this, because I know I am. As you can tell, this fic is not gonna be short. I have much planned [insert evil author smile]. The POV will shift between Mitch and Jerome approximately every chapter, just so you know. Also, I have a poll up on my profile about possible one-shots in the future. Go vote! I want to hear your beautiful voices crying out with feedback. As always, don't forget to review, follow, etc. Much luv!**

**-Quiet Defiance**

**PS – if you like Mitch x OC stories (and my writing style), check out my other main story **_**In Benja I Trust. **_**I promise it's worth your time :) *shameless plug over***


	3. Chapter 3: Five Months Later

CHAPTER THREE: Five Months Later

*MITCH'S POV*

Somehow, I'm still alive. There have been a few close calls, but the prince has always been there to protect me. I try not to say his name just because it's so ridiculous. It's easy around his father, where I have to him Master. When we're alone, I simply refer to him as 'biggums,' a Bacca word he taught me. It's not too bad, being his servant. All I really need to do is run a few errands and pick up his room. I have it easy, compared to the other servants in the palace. He's been nice enough to make up excuses to bring me to the smithy and other places that the other boys were sent. I've struck up a friendship with the robot boy, Marcus, and the lava mob, Petronius.

The one person I haven't been able to talk to is the human girl, Ashley. I pass her occasionally, but she's never more than three or four feet away from the queen. She used to smile at me when we saw each other, but she hasn't lately. The light has gone out of her eyes, and what used to be a confident walk has become a shuffle. Bruises appear and fade away on her arms and her cheekbones. I haven't heard her speak since the first day. Her smile used to brighten my whole week, but now it's gone. It's a strange feeling, missing someone you never really knew.

I still can't figure out what the prince considers me to be. Obviously, he treats me like a servant around his father, but rarely does it otherwise. Sometimes he acts like I'm his friend. Other times, he seems cold and withdrawn. And he always has a scroll that he writes on seemingly randomly. He's constantly staring at me like I'm some sort of display. I've gotten used to it, though.

"My father wishes our presence," the prince says. I grab his sword and belt off the wall and stand by the door as he makes his way over from his bed. He holds out his arms and I belt it on for him. I pull the door open and we begin down the corridor to the throne room.

"No, I don't know why," he says. I am technically not allowed to ask him questions, so he's gotten into the habit of answering them anyway.

"Yes, Master," I say. I have to start early with the 'Master' thing, otherwise I might screw it up when it matter most. He winces at the term. I don't like making him uncomfortable, but we've discovered that it's sometimes a necessity. He doesn't say another word for the rest of the journey.

When we reach the throne room, we walk over to his father and kneel before him.

"Father," the prince says. I stay silent, as it's not my place to speak unless spoken to. From what the prince has implied, the Baccas don't consider any of the other races, including robots, to be capable of complex social interactions such as conversations. Or friendships.

"Ah, yes, Doctor Phil," the king says. The prince winces at the sound of his own name. "I requested your presence because I have found two suitable marriages for you that will benefit Rome significantly. They will both arrive in seven months, at which time you begin the selection process."

"Marriages?" the prince asks. "But you said that I wouldn't have to marry until I reached 21! You said that I could marry for love! You said-"

"Words mean nothing to me," the king says, cutting his son off. "You should know that. Besides, I did not expect such profitable situations to arise so soon."

"How can you call yourself a king when your word means nothing?" the prince says, his voice rising. "How can you call yourself a father when you casually betray your only heir! How can you –"

"ENOUGH," the king says. His shout echoes through the cavernous room. The prince stops, but I can see the muscles in his jaw twitching and I know that he's still angry. I've only seen him argue with his father once before, and it was not a pleasant experience.

"You WILL choose a wife after the passage of seven months. You are dismissed, _boy,_" the king says, spitting out the word as disrespectfully as he can manage. We turn to walk out, but the king calls out again.

"Not you, servant boy. You stay." My insides begin to constrict, but I keep the panic inside. I can't let them see that I am afraid. I can't let them see ANYTHING. I don't shoot the prince a worried glance. I don't look at anything; I simply shuffle into the position the prince held a minute ago on the floor before his father's throne. I hear the door to the prince's corridor shut and I know that I have never been closer to death.

"What do you desire of my son?" the king asks. I answer with only slight hesitation, knowing that if I choose the wrong words I will die. I don't take too long, because that will also guarantee my demise.

"To serve him as he requires, Your Majesty," I reply. I cross my fingers for luck and hope no one can hear my heartbeat frantically exploding with every second.

"Hmph. I suppose. Typical human. Not even enough brainpower to consider their own consciousness," the king says. I keep my mouth shut, but I cannot stop my jaw from clenching. I'm unable to tell if the king is testing me or if he really is that ignorant. I don't move, waiting to be dismissed. The king and queen resume talking, but I hold my ground.

"Still here?" the queen says disdainfully, as if my existence just soiled her dress. I nod in response, not trusting myself to hold back a spiteful remark.

"Well, don't be," she says. I bow (at least, as much as someone can bow when they're kneeling), and head over to the corridor. The king and queen resume their conversation.

"I want him," the queen says as the door shuts behind me.

I say a quick prayer to Notch that I missed the last half of that sentence, and that she doesn't mean me. The prince is pacing back and forth when I arrive back at his rooms, his sword and belt lying on the floor. I pick them up and hang them back on the wall, then take my place on the cushion in the corner where I spend most of my hours just sitting and waiting for orders.

"My father is a fool. How does he expect to keep support in the kingdom if he breaks promises like my mother breaks families? Their views are so ancient, it's infuriating! They're incapable of rule and will lead this kingdom to ruin. And now I must choose a wife! Despicable." He continues muttering under his breath, curses against his family and Notch and the kingdom.

I can somewhat understand his pain. The process that Bacca royalty uses to choose a mate is archaic and violent. The two most suitable candidates are put into a ring, where they battle within an inch of their life. The one who is victorious is chosen. In typical Bacca fashion, they use this process for both men and women, but accidental deaths are far more common when women fight. Now, the prince will expected to not only watch them fight, but live out the rest of his life with someone who might turn out to be a murderer.

And not only will he have to deal with that, but I must as well. For whomever he chooses, I will be forced to extend my services to until I am released or I die. The future does not look bright for either of us. For the millionth time, I am afraid to be in this palace.

As afraid as I am for my own future, Ashley's concerns me even more. She will most likely not be alive by the time the prince marries. She will die at the hands of the queen, unless I can imagine some way to save her.

Just like that, a plan begins to form in my mind.

**A/N TIME! FIESTA! : Hey guys! QD here with an update FINALLY. I'm super super sorry for the awful awful lateness of this story, but school got in the way and In Benja I Trust comes before this story in terms of updates. Luckily, though, I get out of school on June 10****th****, so I'll be able to update more frequently. I'm really excited for where this story can head. Expect a feels roller coaster in the future [insert evil author smile]. Much luv!**

**-Quiet Defiance**

**PS – Again, so sorry for how late this was. I promise it won't be this long again!**

**PPS – I'm not a huge Merome shipper and I have zero experience writing yaoi-type fics so just be patient with me. I just hope this story goes well for your sake and mine!**


End file.
